A Few Kids Poems: Introducing Artist Kayla Stewart, 5

Did you guys know I write childrens’ poems? I love it. In fact, my first published book was a children’s e-book, Bubble Mud and Other Poems (available as a PDF file for anyone interested). The publisher no longer exists, and the rights to those poems have reverted to me. I’ve included some of the best of these poems in my children’s poetry manuscript, The Party In Your Lunchbox, and am in search of a publisher for this anthology of poems for preschoolers to 10 year olds.

In the mean time, I’d really like to share some of the poems from “The Party In Your Lunchbox” with you readers, and with my daughter, who asked me about the book the other day.

“Can I draw pictures for your book? I could do it! Let me do it!”

We spent this Saturday reading my poems out loud, with her brainstorming about how she could interpret them with her own illustrations. I thought she might create one drawing. She whipped off five.

I love it when stuff like that happens. Please visit A Children’s Poetry Place to see the first of the results, and leave a comment there if you do.

I may just have to hire my own kid to illustrate my book of kids poems… 😉

A Few Cat Poems by Heather Grace Stewart & Introducing Artist Kayla Stewart, 5.

'Cat Wants In From the Rain' copyright Kayla Stewart 2011, don't steal my kids picture or I'll beat you up.

Maybe the fortune was for the Zhu Zhu pets.

This morning, you handed me my fortune.

“All your hard work is about to pay off.”

Okay. I could look at this one of two ways.

1. Oh goody, my time has finally come!

2. This fortune is six months old. You found it
at the bottom of my hot pink purse, which you
emptied because your Zhu Zhu pets needed
a fashionable home.

Is there a warranty on fortune cookies?

Don’t Blink Project: Day 1

365 Days of Living Deliberately

How insignificant we seem; how trivial our troubles become, when our world is seen from high above the clouds. We are but a small speck in the palm of this great galaxy, yet each of us leaves our mark on every living creature we touch, talk to, type to— even Tweet. Every new day holds promise—it’s up to us what we do with that promise.

Sometimes, I feel so much pressure, so many To-Do’s, so overwhelmed. I squeeze every minute out of the day, until I’m running on empty. There are times I don’t even remember how I lived it—or if I lived it.

I’ve come to realize that the moments that matter the most to me—the ones I hold closest to my heart—were not full days or full weeks. They were mere moments. Minutes with tiny wings, fluttering by like fragile butterflies. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed them.

I don’t want to blink. I want to take each new day and hold it in my hand. Not like the tight fist I make when I’m frightened, or cold, or just being stubborn–but a wide open palm, welcoming a butterfly to rest its wings there for a while.

I want to experience each day fully—good and bad. To live in the moment, then let it go.

The first time our young daughter caught a snowflake on her tongue. The look on my father’s face as we danced on my wedding day. My mother singing along to Bon Jovi, inciting our feisty toddler to reply back, “No, it’s MY life!” My husband giving up his airplane window seat (and holding my Starbucks coffee for me) so I could capture images of the sun rising over the Rockies on the first morning of a new year.

This is a promise to myself to stop and take more careful notice of something or someone in my life, every single day.

Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it. I hope you’ll join me on my small adventure.

Sun Rising Over Rocky Mountains, Jan. 1st, 2011
Early Morn Over the Rockies, January 1st, 2011

More Respect In 2011! More Respect!

Our cat Sam deserves more respect in 2011. He gets dressed in pink tutus and wrapping paper and put inside boxes and stockings and backpacks. He doesn’t complain as long as he gets fed, but I think 2011 should be his year of respect. Or at least his year of fame on this blog, as he is rather photogenic. Happy New Year everyone.
Sam was not harmed in any way for this photo, plus, he got our turkey scraps.

Beyond the Picket Fence: Special Three-Frame Strip